


Day Twenty-Six: Emma & Julian

by claryherondale



Category: The Dark Artifices Series - Cassandra Clare, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Beaches, Breakfast, California, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Cold Weather, F/M, Family, Fluff, Friendship/Love, Los Angeles, Love, No Smut, One Shot, Pancakes, Parabatai, Pre-Book 1: Lady Midnight, Siblings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-26
Updated: 2016-12-26
Packaged: 2018-09-12 10:25:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9067651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/claryherondale/pseuds/claryherondale
Summary: Day 26 of My 31 Favorite ShipsEmma and Julian have a calm day after Christmas.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is intended to be before Lady Midnight but after the Dark War, about two years before the beginning of Lady Midnight, when Emma and Jules are fifteen. I hope this makes sense with the timelines. Again, I devoured Lady Midnight as soon as it came out so the details are a little bit scrambled in my mind.

Winters in L.A. were always mild, and this year was no different. As Emma walked up the front steps to the Institute, her feet covered in sand and her flip flops dangling from her hands, she appreciated the cool sun that gave the early morning a bright glow. It was certainly a December’s sun—it didn’t warm them as much as it would during summer, but Emma knew that their fifty degree winters were very calm compared to most.

Emma was certainly feeling the cooler weather, because, while she internally realized that it wasn’t anywhere near as cold as it was in most other parts of the country, she was a Californian girl and wasn’t used to weather outside of the sixty-five to seventy-five degree range. 

She walked into the Institute and went up into her room, pulling a blue sweater out of her closet. She yanked it on over her head and dropped her shoes carelessly inside. She wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but the reason she liked the color blue so much was because of the Blackthorns’ trademark eyes, although no fabric could ever begin to imitate it.

When she came back out of her room, she nearly ran into Julian as he was passing by. Emma all but attacked him with a hug.

She kissed his cheek and said, “Merry day after Christmas, Jules.”

He laughed, his hair mussed with sleep—or, more likely, the lack of. Emma knew that she was sometimes his only reprieve from the hardships he faced every day of his life. She tried to help him as much as she could, but he had taken the weight of the world upon his shoulders after their parents died, Helen was sent away, and Mark became a part of the Wild Hunt. Regardless, Emma was Julian’s weak spot; he allowed himself to be more relaxed around her. In some ways, they were like a married couple caring for all of their children.

Except that they were both under eighteen and didn’t quite have the strength to deal with grief and the care of everyone in the Institute simultaneously. 

But Jules still tried. He tried with everything he had, and he was successful. He and Emma had gotten the kids everything they wanted for Christmas and had sent them to bed with full stomachs and happy hearts. Despite what Sebastian did to them and their family, they weren’t dwelling on it; they were trying to recover. And they would. Emma was sure of it.

Emma thought that Tessa must be trying to teach Zachariah how to use a cellphone, because he sent her a text message wishing her and the Blackthorns a Merry Christmas yesterday, one with far too many emojis. It had made Emma laugh, and she responded with a returned sentiment.

Clary had sent her a message as well: a picture of her and Jace, smiling into the camera and wishing her and all of the Blackthorn children—but specifically Jules—happy holidays. She had gotten Julian to take a picture with her to send back to them.

“Merry day after Christmas, Emma,” Julian responded tiredly.

“Why aren’t you sleeping in?” she asked.

Jules scoffed. “Sleeping is a foreign concept to me.”

“I think I’m lucky that our parabatai bond doesn’t make me weaker when you don’t get enough sleep, because I’d be floored most days.” 

He laughed and said, “Come on, Em. Want to help me make pancakes before the kids get up? Diana isn’t going to be here until after the New Year, so it’s just going to be us. Well, I mean, us and Uncle Arthur. But you know as well as I that he will not be leaving the attic.”

Emma followed Julian down to the kitchen and, together, they made pancakes. Jules was a lot better at it than she was, but she tried her best. She just was not naturally a good cook, nor did she have the patience to learn how to be. Julian didn’t seem to mind it, though; he appreciated any help he was given. At Emma’s request, they sprinkled chocolate chips into the batter, which she knew would make the kids happy.

Ty and Livvy were the first ones to get up, and they were immediately drawn to the kitchen by the scent of breakfast. They sat down at the table, still only half awake, and Emma brought over plates of pancakes and a bottle of syrup for them.

“Did you guys have a good Christmas yesterday?” asked Emma.

“Yes,” Livvy said tiredly, while Ty nodded with his head bent over his plate of pancakes.

Emma smiled and went back to helping her parabatai. The rest of the Blackthorn children were awake soon after that—Dru came into the kitchen carrying Tavvy and sat down at the table beside her brother and sister. They were served pancakes as well, and the six of them had a nice breakfast while the wind picked up outside, brushing against the expansive glass windows on the Institute’s walls.

They had a quiet day together; the kids were mostly preoccupied with the presents they had gotten yesterday, and Emma and Jules were able to go for a serene walk on the beach. The stretch of shore by the Institute was devoid of people, as it was the day after Christmas and most people were sleeping in or had labeled the day as too cold to go to the beach. Emma and Julian didn’t mind, though. They held hands as they walked along the shore, and the wind made the waves crash noisily alongside them. 

Julian kept looking over at Emma, and she pretended not to notice it. He was probably just worried about her potential reaction to the waves crashing so forcefully, although he knew that she only had a problem with actually being in the water.

He still worried. He always worried. 

Emma and the Blackthorns all had dinner together—reheated leftovers from the previous night, as Julian had gone all out on the food preparation in order to give the kids the best Christmas he could.

And when they went to bed, Emma and Julian separated, going into their individual bedrooms. But Emma was just staring at her dark ceiling while she listened to the sounds of the ocean and the wind warring against one another. She thought maybe the insomnia was coming from the lack of recent missions—they had been given reprieve for Christmas, and although it was meant as a gift, it troubled Emma. She liked the adrenaline of demon hunting. She fed off of the sweet burn of covering herself in runes, the tip of her stele guided by a sharp hand.

After a while of not being able to fall asleep, she crept out of her room and down the hallway, quietly entering Julian’s room. She got into the bed beside him, and she could see his smile, accented by the silver of the moonlight coming in through the windows.

He was awake. Of course he was.

But still, they said nothing to one another as Emma curled up beside him. She reached out and exposed the inside of his forearm to her, so that she could spell out words on his skin.

I L-O-V-E Y-O-U, she wrote.

He turned to face her, his blue-green eyes trained on her face, and gently took her strong hand, spelling out words just above her wrist.

I L-O-V-E Y-O-U, T-O-O.

And together, they fell asleep like that under a starry sky that they could not see, their childhoods redacted, the demons just waiting to spring free.

**Author's Note:**

> Hint for tomorrow's ship:  
> (wow, we're getting close to the end of the 31 ships)  
> they have two horrible ship names that are  
> generally used jokingly & then a sweeter one


End file.
